The High School Years
by Mayab
Summary: Mercedes is a high strung brat, Oswald's a bit too concerned with his care, Cornelius is a teacher, Velvet's a florist, Ingway's studying frogs, and Gwendolyn's just trying to survive! Welcome to high school, check your sanity at the door.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Took awhile to get this up. Computer problems galore…but I'm fine now! Mental breakdown averted! This is a sequel to my previous fic, When We Were Young (read it, it's cute, good, and a prequel. Not necessary, but some references will be made.) and follows the lives of our favorite characters. I planned this to be the first high school fic, but since I wanted to wait until I beat the game, others beat me to it. Ah, well, who cares? I beat the game, here's your fic. I'll update as often as I can.

Also, I'm gonna make a Gwendolyn bracelet. I have the design; I just need to simplify it (her boots are hell. Those colors…) and get the colors I need. Wish me luck!

Enjoy!

Chapter One

Despite knowing her best friend was guaranteed to be in her class, Gwendolyn woke up on her first day back in public school filled with dread. Sure, she trusted Mercedes, but they hadn't spent much time together over the past few years. How could they, when Titania Prep was hours away, and Mercedes's only transportation was Griselda, who hated driving! It wasn't like Odin went out of his way to visit his youngest daughter. So, yes, she trusted Mercedes, but still, from today on, until she gained her own status and made more friends.

For the first time in her life, Gwendolyn regretted not making more friends her own age. It was understandable, after all Mercedes wasn't the most agreeable person out there. In fact, on a scale of one to ten concerning agreeable, she was a negative three. It came from being the only child of a woman who loved to (and could) spoil her darling daughter (and, on occasion, her daughter's best friend). And she was a loyal friend who wrote weekly and called daily (or rather, nightly), but what if she had changed in the last month? They'd both been busy with school preparations, and their only contact had been texting (which Gwendolyn was firmly against).

"Stop angsting and get moving," Griselda said from the doorway. She was staying at home while waiting for her third (and final!) semester at the University of Erion to begin. As the eldest of the sisters, and other than the maid, the only one home, she had made it her responsibility to see her sister off. "You'll be fine. You and Mercedes are so close I've been thinking of a coming out party."

"But—" Gwendolyn began, but didn't finish. Griselda had a point. She and Mercedes were best friends since nursery school, when Mercedes had crammed clay into the mouth of a kid harassing Gwendolyn. Her worries were for nothing, especially since the last text she received threatened to kidnap her if her father changed his mind and shipped her back to Titantia. The only thing Griselda was wrong about was—"Griselda, if we were a couple, don't you think we would have mentioned it? That'd be like—like dating you!" Her nose wrinkled.

Griselda laughed, turning to leave. "I know, I know, I just had to say it." She shut the door before the pillow hit it.

* * *

The hallways buzzed, morning talk consisting of boys, girls, the summer, and class schedules. Not even Oswald was exempt, being dragged into a conversation by his (possibly only) friend, Brom, and his off-and-on girlfriend, Myris. He liked them well enough, but they never seemed to get that he didn't care whose party got busted up by the police, who cheated on who, or other such teen drama. Still, he listened with feigned interest, silently counting down the minutes until the bell rang.

"Oswald? Are you listening?" Myris demanded, hands on hips. She had picked the habit up from Mercedes, his father's cousin, and used it well. Very few challenged a girl that looked like she would rip their head off and use it as a soccer ball. Oswald nodded. "Good. Then you won't mind?"

"Uh, sure, I mean, no, I mean, whatever you want," he stammered.

"Good," she grinned, then skipped off.

"What did I just agree to?"

Brom also grinned. "Lending her Belderiver for this weekend."

"What? No!" Oswald protested. Beledriver was his car, brand new, burgundy red with a plush interior (not leather, his father had advised him, as leather seats were fond of keeping generous amounts of skin on hot days) and the closest thing Oswald would ever have to a child. The only person other than him allowed to drive it was Melvin, and only because he paid for it, and its hefty insurance. "She'll ruin it!"

An almost sadistic look came into Brom's eyes. "You could always tell her you weren't listening. I'm sure she won't mind you ignoring her. And lying"

Like that was an option. She'd yell at him about how rude he was, then cry because he was breaking his promise. Oswald didn't deal well with tears. In fact, whenever he saw someone crying, he ran in the other direction (which didn't always work out, as Mercedes had no qualms about chasing him until he agreed to comfort her, which often meant an unnatural amount of ice cream).

"If she puts even a scratch on my Belderiver, I'm telling her about every complaint you've ever voiced, and some you haven't."

Brom paled. "Right. I'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good."

* * *

Mercedes ran into the classroom, expecting Gwendolyn to already be there, but breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't see her friend. She had meant to make Oswald drive the both of them to school, but by the time she woke up he'd already left, and she had been running let. He mother had offered to write a note excusing her from her first few classes so she could enjoy the morning having a leisurely breakfast in the garden, but Mercedes could picture Gwendolyn's reaction to that. She wouldn't yell, but she'd get this disappointed look in her eyes and tell her not to worry about it, it was only her first day back, it wasn't like it was all that special. Guilt was her specialty, and she used it well.

Her usual seat, in the back corner, right next to the window, was open, though the seat next to it was occupied, as was the one before it. Mercedes marched over, dropped her bag in her seat, and addressed the person in Gwedolyn's seat.

"Move, Onyx." _Who the hell dyes their hair white? And goes tanning? Geez, the massive muscles must've messed with his brain,_ she thought.

"I left you your precious window seat, so back off," he grumbled. Last year, the two had vied for the spot, racing to class daily and using friends as distractions to impede the other, but the competition had ended when Mercedes had demonstrated her willingness to do anything for her favorite seat. Onyx wasn't a fool—he could only use dissolvent so many times before it removed his hair along with the glue/paint/honey/gum.

"Yes, but now you're in my friend's seat. So move."

Onyx scoffed "What friend?"

"My long lost lesbian lover. You really want to come in between our reunion?" she snapped.

He paused, musing over the subject, then smirked. "Sure. Sounds fun."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "It's sarcasm, Onyx. Learn it. She's my best friend since we were kids, and if you don't move, you're going to be right in the middle of our gossip, nefarious plotting, and trust me, you'll hear about your doom before it happens. And it will be painful."

Onyx looked at her. If she could see inside his mind, Mercedes would bet that he was thinking losing his hair again. Even the self-appointed Don Juan of Ragnanival High couldn't carry off being bald, and he quickly moved across the room, where one of his many girlfriends awaited.

The door slid open and Oswald rushed in, sitting in the first available seat. Mercedes sighed. She'd been trying to get him to embrace the joy and freedom of the back row with her, but her cousin believed in getting a good education and forced the ideals off on his son. Melvin could be so naïve about the world of teenagers.

Again, the door opened, this time for a blonde man, followed by a pale haired girl. Gwendolyn hadn't changed much over the last year. There was the expected change in height, but even that was miniscule. Like Mercedes, she had done most of her growing, with only a few inches left to reach. Unlike Mercedes, though, she was five-and-a-half feet tall, while Mercedes brushed five when she stretched. She used to believe she'd shoot up with the onset of puberty, but unfortunately she saw a picture of her father. Common sense said that if she took after her mother in most aspects, she would take after her father in some. That area was height.

Gwendolyn, who took after her magazine model mother, glanced around nervously, eyes wide and frightened. Mercedes waited a moment, then waved happily, catching Gwendolyn's eye. The scared look disappeared and she waved back. A few students turned, but others, ones who had been in the same classes with them before, didn't bother.

"As you can see, class, we have a new student. This is Gwendolyn Hugin, and she's just come back to our school after studying abroad in Titania. Please help her adjust to our system. Now, Gwendolyn, if you'll take a seat, we can do the usual welcome back jazz. The sooner it's done, the sooner you all can get back to your bragging about who had the best summer vacation."

Mercedes pointed to the seat next to her, which wasn't necessary as Gwendolyn was already headed for it.

"What are you wearing?" was the first thing out of her mouth, followed by a "And why do I want my own?"

"Everyone does," giggled Mercedes, pulling her flower headband off. "Mom made it. Isn't it wonderful?"

Gwendolyn nodded, fingering the acrylic blooms.

Cornelius cleared his throat. "If you girls are done chatting, I'd like to get this over with."

"Oh, start whenever, we'll catch up," Mercedes said, waving cheerfully. In the front, Oswald cradled his head.

"Sorry, sir, we'll be quiet," Gwendolyn rushed to add.

"Thank you. And yes, Mercedes, we all want our own bunch of flowers to wear on our head. Maybe, to keep us from being too jealous, you'll leave it at home tomorrow? Now, everyone write down your information on these index cards. Name, emergency information, and schedule, not likes, dislikes, and status. I don't think I could care less about who's dating who."

* * *

"Okay, everything's done. Since it's the first day, giving you homework would only make my life harder, so either stay here and chat or go find something to do. But don't leave!" Cornelius yelled as half the class fled the room.

Gwendolyn turned to Mercedes. "Um, is he always like that?"

Her fair-haired friend grinned cheekily. "Yep. He's really popular because he doesn't care what we do as long as we get our work done. Oh, and don't get him in trouble. Oh, and get this," she motioned for Gwendolyn to lean in as she did the same. "He's dating—and _living with—_Velvet!"

The news had the desired effect. Gwendolyn gasped, looked at the teacher, who returned her looked quizzically, then back at Mercedes. "No!"

"Yes, and more than that! They're pre-engaged!"

"Velvet? Oh, I can't believe I'm so out of the loop! Is there anything else I missed?"

"Tons! Ingway's in college, still studying those horrible things," Mercedes shivered. "And he lives in a dorm. It's way cool, but I barely get to go there. He's always in his lab, working on some experiment or another."

"A college boy barely in his room when a cute girl wants to go there? What has this world come to?" Onyx interrupted, sitting in the seat before Gwendolyn's. "Hi, I'm Onyx."

Gwendolyn glanced him over, a habit she picked up from her dorm mate back at Titania Prep, and shook his hand. "I'm Gwendolyn."

"Yes, I gathered that from your introduction earlier," Onyx replied.

"Why are you being nice?" Mercedes muttered, suspicion lacing her voice.

"Why wouldn't I be nice to a new student? _She_ hasn't done anything to me."

"Actually it was her idea to attack your hair. So blame her for your temporary baldness."

Gwendolyn blushed, remembering that, indeed, it had been her idea. She hadn't known the effect, but the trap set to go off when an unsuspecting victim sat was her design, as was the brilliance of pouring glue on said victim. At the time, she would have never thought she'd meet the loathsome thief Mercedes had mentioned.

"It may have been her idea, but you were the one who did it. Besides, how can I be angry at such a lovely creature?"

She blushed again, though unwillingly. Already Gwendolyn knew that the boy in front of her was a womanizer, to whom one girl was the same as another, and someone she wanted nothing to do with. Her father had attempted to set her up with plenty, and she knew plenty of girls who dated such guys, thinking their attitude was just the exterior and they could change them.

_How's that going for them? Not good. Why? Because jerkass womanizers will always be jerkass womanizers. Unless the jerkass womanizing is just a façade, which only happens in movies._

"Jeez, Onyx, lay off. She just got here. Wait at least a week before you prove that this school has nothing to offer by way of guys," said Mercedes, wrinkling her nose. "C'mon, Gwendolyn, let's go tease Cornelius about Velvet."

Gwendolyn nodded, quickly following in the tactical escape.

* * *

When Oswald returned from the vending machines (the cacao bars were gone, no surprise—damn Mercedes, couldn't she leave anything for anyone else?) he was both surprised and not at what he saw. Mercedes was standing at the front desk, which was a normal occurrence, considering her friendship with Cornelius's girlfriend, but with her stood the new girl. What was her name? Gwen something. Gwenivere? Gwenyth?

"Anyway, you should make sure not to be mean to us, 'cause Velvet and us are tight. She may not mind you giving me detention—we found that out last year—but upset Gwendolyn and she'll kill you. Gwendolyn's the little sister she never had." Mercedes winked conspiratorially. "Once she asked Griselda to trade."

Oh, yes, it was Gwendolyn, the other person Mercedes was always talking about.

"I almost accepted," Gwendolyn giggled. "The look on Ingway's face when he realized that meant _Griselda_ would be his little sister was priceless."

"I have a picture somewhere."

Cornelius looked intrigued. "Really? Is there I chance I could get a look at that?"

"Sure. Oh, Oswald, you're back."

Oswald nodded, going to stand with the group. If he didn't Mercedes would harp until he did. She was very good at that. Why was he surrounded by such women? Even Elfaria had to have her way all the time. Hopefully this new girl wouldn't be like that. If she was, and they got into an argument…well, he just hoped that never happened. It'd really be a lose-lose situation.

"Gwennie, this is Melvin—you remember him? We hid a snake in his bed once?—Oswald's his son. And my cousin, but you'd never know it from looking."

Gwendolyn did look, back and forth between the two, obviously not seeing any resemblance, but searching. Oswald didn't look anything like his family. Where they had blonde hair, fragile features, and suntanned skin, he had silver hair, harsh and angular features, and pale skin that only burned, making picnics unbearable. They did all have red eyes, but his shade was more intense while theirs bordered on brown. It made perfect sense, of course, considering that he was adopted.

"You must take after your mother," Gwendolyn offered as an explanation. It'd be easy to take that way out, but while it may save face for himself, it would hurt another.

"I'm adopted. Melvin found me when I was young."

She nodded. "I suppose having a smart father makes up for having Mercedes as a cousin."

"Hey!" Mercedes cried, a hand over her chest. "That hurts, Gwendolyn, it really does. I'm a much better relative than Melvin. I'm fun."

There were a few things Oswald could say about that, such as pointing out her tendency to show up unannounced, borrowing his books without asking, trying to borrow Belderiver, but pointing that out wouldn't do much, other than annoy her. If Elfaria would stop spoiling her, maybe she wouldn't think everyone else would, but mentioning that would have disastrous results.

"Right, Oswald?"

With a silent curse, Oswald realized he had once again zoned out and missed an important question. Twice in one day—maybe he didn't eat a healthy enough breakfast?

"Right?"

"No, I don't agree," he said, remembering what happened earlier.

"What? I thought it was a good idea," Mercedes whined.

"It's okay, Mercedes, really," Gwendolyn said, trying to soothe the girl, who looked like she was about to cry.

Oswald had a feeling he got the answer wrong again. "I-I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What did I just say no to?" He looked to Cornelius for help.

"Mercedes wants to throw a welcome back party for Gwendolyn. You disagreed," the teacher replied.

"I've only been planning this for weeks! Every since I found out Gwendolyn was coming back! I made everyone clear their schedule, got music, food, movies, all I needed to do was get you to agree to host it!" Tears welled up in her eyes, dangerously close to falling.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know! I'll talk to Melvin, I'm sure he'll say yes!"

The bell rang and students began filing back in.

Mercedes sniffed. "You promise?"

"Yes, of course! It'll be great! Right?" Oswald asked, looking at Gwendolyn in hopes that she would help him out.

"Yes, great fun. Don't feel guilty," she added to Oswald. "She's faking."

"Ah, Gwendolyn! You ruined it."

Oswald watched as she, who had just been so close to full on sobbing, cheered up instantly and wiped the tears off. He continued to watch as both girls went back to their desks, and as Mercedes winked.

"I just got conned. By my cousin."

Cornelius agreed.

"Does that make me pathetic?" Oswald asked, turning to his teacher.

"No, Oswald, not pathetic. Just male. Women like that have used men since the beginning of time. Luckily my Velvet's nothing like that."

"For now," Oswald replied, wanting to ruin the chipper mood. That'll teach him to brag.


	2. Chapter 2

Oo, chapter two! What fun~!

Now, review replies.

Varanus: My first review…thank you! I'm glad you like! I, too, would like to see more of this.

Mochi: Thanks! I will continue.

Merines Shinku: She is. I'm trying to match how Mercedes would have been before her mother died. And could it really be Odin Sphere without Oswald and Gwendolyn?

Cuna999: Thanks for the review, but I have to point out that Oswald and Myris aren't a couple. Myris and Brom have an on-and-off relationship. She's just really pushy.

Shrimpeater: I'm so glad you _did_ read! Most high school fics are kinda, uh, well, yeah.

MIKI-tan: *hiding behind shield* Okay, here it is.

And I still don't own this. Damn.

Also, Velvet's opinion of Ingway's hat is nowhere near mine. I love his hat. I want my own. I also want my own Ingway (Liam O'Brien's voice is drool worthy) but, hey, small steps.

On with the show! Er, fic.

Chapter Two

Deep within her greenhouse, Velvet stood glaring at her brother. He had shown up that morning claiming not to have any classes, wearing that ridiculous hat she'd been trying to convince him was a monstrosity. She was trying to tend to the Bleeding Heart buds, and he knew that if they died she'd have to wait years for anymore. It was the same with the Nigra Hollyhock. He strolled in while she was trimming them, yelled that he hated life, and oops, there goes the Hollyhock.

Ingway had no respect for her business.

"It's unfair! Why do I have to attend Grandfather's party? Why not you? Certainly he'd be delighted to show off his future grandson, son of one of the oldest and richest families in Titania! Why me? He doesn't even like me!"

Velvet pointed her shears at him. "I am working. This is my job. If I fail, not only will it be years before we even have a chance to see this plant bloom, many of my customers will be very disappointed. And since I've promised this to them, having to tell them 'Sorry, my idiot brother messed me up. Wanna wait two more years?' would not be fun."

Ingway grumbled, but didn't continue, eyeing the shears warily. A short while later (_Why can't he be patient? Men are idiots, except Cornelius_), Velvet turned from her plants and fixed her eyes on him. Without speaking, she pointed him to the front of the store and followed him. Automatically she opened the doors to the refrigerators, checking each bundle awaiting delivery, rearranging some and ignoring others. Once she was done, she turned to her twin, though she often felt he was much younger than her.

"I am not going because Cornelius is disowned. Grandfather likes him, but right now he needs to look good. You are going because you will take over the lab one day. If you're dreading it so much, get a date. Invite Mercedes."

Ingway gawked at the suggestion, normally tan face paling. The feather of his hat, Velvet noted with interest, was very close to one of the flowers she displayed, and getting covered in pollen. Unlike her, his allergies were particularly bad, and hopefully the hat would annoy him enough to get rid of it.

"I can't invite her!" he protested, jumping from where he had sat.

"Why not?" asked Velvet. "I'm sure she'd enjoy it."

"Oh, yes, she'd enjoy it all right," Ingway said darkly. "And right after we left, Grandfather would call to inform me of his decision to have me killed for ruining his chances with so many potential investors."

Velvet laughed. It was all too easy to imagine that coming true. Mercedes was a sweet girl, but the last formal event she had been invited to, she managed to insult half the guests with one sentence. "Then suffer alone."

"Velvet," he groaned.

"Suck it up. Be a man."

"Men suffer just as easily as women. More so. We have to live with you!"

If anyone else had said that, she would have been furious. As it was Ingway, she understood. She didn't trouble him at all, but ever since they met Mercedes and Gwendolyn, he had been the target of many practical jokes. Shoes falling apart, clothes disappearing, discovering his favorite white shirt had been mysteriously dyed pink. He had enjoyed the last one, though, when he saw everyone's reaction to him wearing it.

"Yes, you poor thing," she crooned, patting his head. "We try to be nice, but you men are just so easy to manipulate. Except my Cornelius. He's a gem."

Ingway frowned at the mention of his sister's boyfriend. He had made it no secret he didn't approve of the relationship, though he had been less vocal since Cornelius had decided to get a job and work for a living, rather than breaking up with Velvet.

"Anyway, are you going to the party?"

Ingway looked at her. "What party?"

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, Mercedes, Gwendolyn, and even Oswald were quite bored with classes. Cornelius may be a good teacher, but he only taught one class, then all the students picked up their bags and moved. Mercedes was delighted that Gwendolyn was indeed in all of her classes, but then again, it was a small school. She hated that Onyx also shared a few of their classes, but he no longer tried to steal any seat she wanted. Instead he aimed for the seat next to Gwendolyn, who politely responded to each of his questions, all the while shooting Mercedes SOS looks. She tried to help, but really, what could she do when Professor Odette fixed her with that creepy glare, silently threatening her with detention if she dared to breathe loudly, let alone speak. So once lunch arrived, Gwendolyn was annoyed, Mercedes apologetic, Onyx obstinate, and Oswald wondering what the heck was going on.

The lunch room was just as it had been, wooden tables and chairs, vending machines on one wall, only now it was full. Mercedes grabbed Gwendolyn, dragging her toward the doors that opened into the courtyard. That was new—when they had visited the school years ago, it had been nothing, a plan in waiting. Now it was fully furnished and gorgeous. Trees dotted the grass, well kept by the custodians, and a few picnic tables were spread around. Most students chose to eat on the ground, not bothering with the ordeal of moving a moving a table to a decent spot. Mercedes, however, grew up with flowers everywhere, and ate breakfast and dinner outside with her mother whenever the weather permitted.

After finding a decent table—the staff rearranged them over the summer, just to torment the students—she turned to find her cousin standing near Gwendolyn. Perfect.

"Oswald! Move this table over there!" she ordered, pointing to the perfect spot underneath a tree.

"Why do I have to—oh, forget it," he grumbled, dropping his bag. Mercedes jumped out of his way, reaching up to steady her flower crown—she had put it back on immediately after Cornelius's class, and no other teachers had commented on it.

"Thank you," she chirped when he was done. "Wanna join us?"

Oswald shrugged—Brom and Myris were nowhere to be seen—and sat down. Mercedes sat across from him and motioned for Gwendolyn to sit next to her. Before doing such, Gwendolyn grabbed Oswald's bag and handed it to him. They pulled out their lunches—none of them, it seemed, wanted to risk cafeteria food this early in the year. Cooks changed almost yearly, and it took the new ones weeks before they could churn out anything edible.

"Sandwiches?" Mercedes asked, eyeing Gwendolyn's lunch. Beside the sandwiches lay a napple, drink—Cooler, a blue raspberry flavored soda that supposedly stayed cool not matter what—and a mulberry biscuit.

"Lamb pie," Gwendolyn noted, also eyeing Mercedes's lunch. It also contained ginger cookies, cacao milk, and a baggie of grapes.

Oswald watched the proceedings with a vaguely interested look on his face, munching on his own herb-roasted shrimp, milk, and mandragora salad.

"Trade?" Both girls suggested simultaneously, handing each other the main part of their meal. They turned to Oswald, eyeing his lunch. He placed a protective arm around it.

Mercedes turned away with a scoff. "He doesn't have anything good, anyway."

"Sour grapes," Oswald retorted.

Gwendolyn giggled. "You two are pretty close."

Both parties protested. They weren't close, they only got along because they had to, and anyway, how would she know? Gwendolyn pointed out that she had known Mercedes forever, which won her that argument.

"So, about the party," Mercedes began, ignoring her friend's victorious smile. She didn't get to say anymore, because one of the teachers (one of the women who adored Elfaria's work and took every opportunity to ask Mercedes all sorts of questions, from Elfaria's next work to if she would mind having tea with one of her fans) called her over. Mercedes scowled, but the teacher was also her math teacher. Getting brownie points early in the year would help her, especially since she always had to have Oswald tutor her later on. History? No problem. Language? Aced it. Math? Run as fast as you can. "Be right back."

Gwendolyn waved her off and turned to Oswald.

"So."

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "So."

"D-don't just repeat what I said! I'm trying to start a conversation," she cried, blushing furiously.

"Oh, is _that_ what you were doing?" He chuckled.

"S-stop! This is hard enough, being in a new school." Her hands flew up to cover her face. "I'm so bad at socializing. It's a miracle I ever made friends!"

Oswald shrugged. "From what I heard, you have more friends than me."

"How many do you have?" Gwendolyn asked, peeking between her fingers.

Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to tell her the truth. After all, most people had more than two friends (if he considered Myris a friend, which he occasionally did, but not when she was lined up to drive his Belderiver). Most people had more than they could count.

"You don't have many, do you?"

"…four." Including her and Mercedes. "Five if you go by people you just interact with."

"…I have four here. Five if I include you. Six if I count my sister."

"Wow. We're really pathetic, aren't we?"

She didn't need to reply.

* * *

"Seriously, Gwennie, what was with the depressing silence back at lunch? I'm gone for, like, two seconds, and somehow you two are acting like the world was about to end! You better cheer up for the party," Mercedes added darkly.

Gwendolyn nodded, pasting an absurdly large smile on her face. It didn't fool Mercedes, but her friend was just happy she was trying.

School had just let out and they were waiting at the entrance for Oswald, who Mercedes had bullied into agreeing to drive them home. He had disappeared after telling them to wait there, and Gwendolyn was beginning to wonder if he chose to make a break for it. She could hardly blamed him—from what she heard, he worshipped his car, and probably didn't want Mercedes (who was slowly devouring a cacao pop she stole from the cafeteria freezer) anywhere near it.

"Gwendolyn, what are you still doing here? Did you miss the bus?" Onyx's voice called.

Mentally she groaned, reluctantly turning to face what she was beginning to consider her stalker. Maybe she should sic Griselda on him. Or maybe not, since they still hadn't found the body of the last guy who pursued Gwendolyn.

"Onyx," she greeted with faked cheerfulness. Making sure she was close to Mercedes, she reached out and pinched her _dear, dear_ friend. Luckily, Mercedes got the message.

"Seriously, Onyx, don't you know when to give up? Gwendolyn's not interested."

He paused as if to give the statement thought, then shrugged. "I have not a clue as to what you're talking about. I'm simply trying to be a good friend."

_Yay, seven! Oh, wait, not the type of friend I want._ "That's very nice of you. No, I didn't miss the bus. We're actually waiting for our ride."

On cue, a shiny red sports car pulled up.

Onyx scowled for a moment before his meant-to-be-charming smile came back up. "Just making sure. I wouldn't want to leave such a lovely lady without a ride. I'll see you tomorrow, Gwendolyn." Then "Mercedes. _Oswald._" Added as an unpleasant after thought.

Gwendolyn cursed as her faced heated up. _Why am I so damn susceptible to compliments?_

"Easy blusher as always, eh, Gwendolyn?" Mercedes laughed, attempting to open the car door. "Oswald!"

"Drop the ice cream," came the stern reply.

"But I'm not—oh, fine," she grumbled, tossing the half finished bar in a random direction. She ignored the yelp of the student it hit and climbed into the backseat. Gwendolyn followed.

"Nice car," she said.

Oswald looked into the rear view mirror and smiled. "Thanks. It was a present from my dad."

"Wow. _My_ dad only gets me jewelry and dresses."

"Ask him what he calls it," Mercedes whispered, elbowing Gwendolyn.

"Huh? Why?"

"Trust me, ask."

"No!" Gwendolyn whispered back.

"It's worth it, c'mon, ask!"

"You ask!"

"Why would _I_—trust me, ask!"

"You know I can hear you, right? If you want to know the name, just ask."

Gwendolyn shot Mercedes and embarrassed look. It received a smirk as reply, as well as an urge to ask.

"Okay, I give. Oswald, what's your car's name?"

"Belderiver."

A beat, then:

"W-Why are you laughing?"

"Eyes on the road Oswald!"

"I-It's not—I'm not—oh, my, _Belderiver_ for a car!"

"What's wrong with Belderiver? Mercedes named her phone Riblam!"

"Rib—"

"Road, Oswald, eyes on road!"

"Belderiver's a very respectable name! Dad's last car was named that!"

"Oh my—hereditary car naming? That's even worse than my father's motorcycle Balor!"

"Oswald, road!"

"How is that worse? Everyone names cars, only—only—weird people name motorcycles and phones!"

"Road!"

"But Belderiver! So pompous—"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PUT YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!"


End file.
